Crime Story
by Revever
Summary: A vicious rumour about Mr. Gold spreads in Crathie. Part two of Crathie series.


Mr. Gold's phone rang just as he and Belle were leaving his shop. Gold made an apologetic gesture and pulled it out from a pocket of his jacket. He frowned, seeing the caller ID and Belle tried not to stare too obviously.

'Hello?' he said coldly but with a hint of anxiousness.

They continued their way towards the center of the village as Belle observed his face contorted with an angry grimace.

'What? Are you serious?'

He didn't stop, if anything, he started to walk quicker, huffing angrily. Belle heard muffled voice of whomever he was talking to, shrill and unpleasant.

'Of course I will. But I swear, this is the last time you pulled off such a number!'

If Belle weren't witnessing it right now, she would have sworn that Gold was incapable of being threatening. She was though, and along with her a few other people on the street eyeing them with frank curiosity. Belle looked at Gold with wide eyes hoping for an explanation.

Gold ended the call, flipping his phone closed with an audible clack. He shoved it angrily into his pocket, still scowling. Then he looked at Belle and remembered she was there, next to him.

'I'm sorry...' he said quietly, getting back to his usual, harmless self. 'It... it was my ex-wife.' He blushed, not looking at Belle. 'I need to go to Glasgow to get Bae. There was... a change of plans.'

He seemed very embarrassed, so Belle didn't push. They said their goodbyes, Belle went to the bed and breakfast to get on her laptop and write. She didn't emerge from her room until supper and even then she didn't pay attention to other people at Granny's. Gold already left for Bae, the trip to Glasgow was going to take the rest of the day. They were supposed to be back the next evening, Gold had mentioned something about stopping in Storybook Glen on their way back. Belle wondered about the dinner she was invited to, they hadn't actually talked about it in the rush. Were the plans still standing?

The next day passed languidly. It rained, so Belle stayed in her room, writing. It wasn't until breakfast on the next day when she was treated with the greatest shock of her career.

'I would stay away from Gold,' Mrs. Lucas said, serving her scones and tea. 'If you didn't know, he just murdered his poor wife.'

Belle gaped at the old lady.

'Impossible,' she said at last.

'Oh believe me, it's not,' Mrs. Lucas said. 'The whole village is already talking about it.'

'How then? When?'

'Yesterday of course, when he went to Glasgow for their bairn. Now he's back, hiding. But not for too long, I bet.'

'It's just gossip,' Belle cringed with disgust.

'You are new here, Miss French,' Mrs. Lucas said, looking Belle deep in the eyes. 'You don't know him or us. And you'd be better off if you left instead of getting to know him.'

Belle scoffed and pointedly turned to her breakfast. Mrs. Lucas went away. But the thoughts whirling in Belle's mind didn't go away. On one hand, Belle would have never suspected Gold of murder. It was riddiculous. On the other, he had been very upset with his wife during the phone call and Mrs. Lucas was right about one thing – Belle didn't really know Gold or anybody else here. She spent with the man a day and a half. A very nice day and a half, but...

She shook her head. Nonsense. Mrs. Lucas disliked Mr. Gold and was rude to him, so of course she believed in such gossip. But Belle didn't have any reason for that.

* * *

Belle waited for Gold to appear in his shop, walking through the small village and looking out for the battered Cadillac. Hours passed and Belle found herself restlessly pacing the street in front of the shop. She didn't know where exactly Gold lived so she couldn't march there to demand answers, and asking people for the address felt unappealing. She was going to do so however if Gold didn't show up until lunch.

He didn't.

Belle sat at the table at Granny's, pushing her food on the plate, but not really eating. Where was he? What happened?

Suddenly the door opened and the man himself appeared. He came in as quickly as his cane allowed, hair tousled by the wind, breathing heavily. He looked around with wild, disbelieving eyes.

'What is this?' he demanded, concentrating his stare on Mrs. Lucas who watched him from behind the counter with contempt clearly written on her face. 'I just allowed Bae to go play with his friends on the playground. Why did he come home crying that his mother is dead?'

'How would we know?' asked Granny pointedly, accenting the 'we' part. A murmur of approving voices accompanied her.

'Bae's friends heard it from their parents,' Gold said, raising his voice. 'What is going on? Mila is well and alive!'

'Oh really?' Granny frowned. 'Forgive us for not believing this.'

'What?...'

Belle saw the bewilderment in Gold's eyes, and the absolute belief in everybody else's eyes.

'You did her in, Gold, we know,' said someone.

'Aye, and that was a foul thing to do,' added another voice. The grave tone didn't leave any doubt just how foul it was. The ominous murmur sounded again, making Belle think of dogs closing in on their prey.

Gold took a step back.

'I didn't...' he protested weakly.

'You can tell this to the police,' Mrs. Lucas said. 'Now scram. Poor Bae, to have his ma murdered by his own father. In fact, I think Bae shouldn't live with you anymore...'

At that Gold raised his cane in Mrs. Lucas' direction.

'I'm well aware what you think of me,' he hissed. 'I don't know how you thought that one up, but you leave my son out of this! Do you understand?'

With that he turned around and left. The pub erupted with comments and exclamations, as apparently every single man and woman needed to voice their opinion.

Belle, feeling rather sick, got up quickly and hurried after Gold, calling for him to stop.

'What do you want?' he asked sharply, turning back with brows furrowed and keeping his cane pointed at her, keeping her from coming closer. 'I saw you inside. You don't have to tell me in person that you think I'm a murderer.'

His voice caught and he lowered his cane. Now he looked exhausted and lost.

'Are you?' asked Belle gently, trying to convey that she didn't think so.

He took a deep breath.

'Aye, I am,' he answered curtly. 'Ask Mrs. Lucas for details. Now leave me alone.'

He got into his car and drove away, leaving Belle completely flabbergasted.

* * *

Upon returning to the bed and breakfast, Belle looked for Ruby, Mrs. Lucas' granddaughter. Ruby seemed to be more sympathetic than her Granny and might have proved to be a more reasonable source of information.

But Ruby too frowned when Belle took her aside and quietly asked why everybody had been so eager to believe in Gold's fault.

'It's because it wouldn't be the first time he's had blood on his hands,' Ruby said, staring furiously at the floor.

'What do you mean?' Belle whispered, admittedly scared.

'Exactly what I said. If not for him...' Her voice trembled. 'Just leave the man alone. You don't need to concern yourself with him.'

'Would you at least tell me what he's done?'

Ruby shook her head.

'I don't want to talk about it. Excuse me, I need to get back to work.'

And Belle was again left with more questions than answers. That didn't sit well with her already strained patience. She marched up to the pub counter and demanded Gold's address from the other waitress, blond girl called Ashley.

'He lives in that weird house just outside Crathie,' Ashley shrugged. 'Follow the road and you can't miss it. You're actually serious about this?'

'Yes,' Belle forced herself to be civil. 'Thank you.'

With that she turned around and left the pub. Thankfully, she was wearing flats today, which allowed her to walk much quicker than usual. Still, it took her good twenty minutes to reach her destination – lonely house looking vaguely Victorian, painted pink and definitely out of place in the Scottish Highlands. Whoever had built it, must have been an interesting person. The house looked far too old to have been built by Gold.

Anyway, Gold's car was parked right there. Belle gathered all her courage and forcefully knocked on the door.

'Papa!' a child's voice rang in the house. 'Papa!'

She heard quick steps and a distinctive sound of a cane. Then silence. Belle tried to smile reassuringly, guessing that Gold was looking at her through the peephole.

Thankfully, the door opened.

'Miss French?' Gold asked, resignedly.

For a moment Belle wondered what exactly she had planned to say at that point. Nothing seemed smart enough.

'I couldn't leave it like this...' she said at last.

'Like what?' Gold sighed. 'What do you expect from me?'

Belle bit her lips.

'Nno, I don't expect anything,' she said carefully. 'I only wanted to ask if I can do anything for you.'

The next sigh was definitely more shaky. Gold stopped looking at her altogether, staring at the doorframe.

'There's nothing,' he said simply.

'I just think that people in the village are so... so idiotic about this whole gossip.'

Gold managed a wan smile.

'Not that much, Miss French.'

'Why?' she asked, because there was only so much she could do to rein her curiosity in. 'Everybody, including you, is hinting at something terrible, only no one wants to tell me what that could be.'

'Did you ask Mrs. Lucas?'

'No,' Belle cringed. 'I don't think she would tell me the truth. And I'm not interested in listening to more venom about you.'

Gold was looking at the floor now, with his head lowered.

'Please don't make me tell you,' he said almost inaudibly.

'I won't make you...' Belle reached with her hand but stopped, not sure if he would have welcomed the touch. 'But please, I can't believe that you really, intentionally killed someone.'

'Ah... I might have as well.'

'That was not a yes.'

'That was not a no. Excuse me, Miss French. Please leave.'

She couldn't really do anything but leave if she didn't want to force him.

* * *

Back at Granny's Belle spotted a policeman.

He was a tall, dark man, moving energetically and talking with the patrons. He seemed angry.

'Oh come on, Graham!' Mrs. Lucas said, annoyed. 'Just go to the man and check it!'

Other voices joined her in approval. Belle stopped by the entrance, watching the scene intently.

Meanwhile, Graham let out an exasperated sigh.

'Granny, I can understand why you dislike Mr. Gold. But throwing wild accusations is a step too far.'

'Really? I remember you as a wee bairn, Graham, don't you think you should speak to me with a little more respect? Or do you think I can't walk you out of here by the ear?'

'It's beside the point,' Graham looked upward as if begging for divine intervention. 'Also, I think there is a simple way to put an end to this nonsense.'

The crowd might have been on Mrs. Lucas' side, but everybody instantly came a bit closer to watch.

Graham took out a cell phone and dialed a number.

'I'm putting it on a speaker,' he said, laying the phone on the counter. It beeped a few times, but before Mrs. Lucas' face could become too triumphant, a female voice answered.

'Hiya, Graham? What's up?'

'Hiya, Mila,' Graham answered with a smile. 'It seems the village has a wee problem that you can help to solve.'

'Really?' Mila's voice became sour. 'Is this about Robert murdering me? I hope you are not going to lecture me about making him come to get Bae? He's his father, remember.'

'No lecture today. Just letting people know you're alive.'

'Oh please, as if Robert had the balls to murder me! Can I go now? We're leaving soon with Killian, and I already had to talk to Bae to tell him I'm alive. Would you people stop pestering me?'

'Okay, Mila, I think that'd be it,' Graham said, rather coldly. 'Thanks, and take care.'

Mila ended the call and Graham looked around. People avoided his stare. Except Mrs. Lucas and Ruby.

'That doesn't change anything,' Mrs. Lucas said. 'And you know it.'

'I know it,' Graham admitted. 'But at least let's put an end to this one, alright?'

'Alright,' someone from the crowd said. 'Like the lass said, Gold has no balls for it!'

People erupted with laughter and Belle slipped away, disgusted. And even more determined to learn the truth.

* * *

'Mr Gold!' she called back at his doorstep. 'Mr Gold, please open the door!'

He did, finally, after good five minutes of her calling.

'Miss French, you don't allow Bae to sleep. It's late, why are you back here?'

'Because these people are nuts. But you might want to know that the policeman, Graham, called your wife. She confirmed for everybody that she's alive.'

'That's nice of her.'

Belle gaped at him.

'Just that?...'

'What am I supposed to say? It's not as if it improves my rating dramatically. Or at all. Though I hope folks will think twice now before saying anything to Bae...'

His voice caught.

'How is Bae dealing with that?' Belle asked quietly.

'As good as you can imagine...' Gold sighed. 'He was so scared when he came home earlier... We called Mila immediately, so it got cleared up soon, then when he calmed down, I went to the village... Probably shouldn't have. I should have stayed with him. It didn't change anything...'

This time Belle didn't hesitate and laid her hand on his shoulder.

'I'm sorry it happened at all.'

Gold nodded.

'Thank you. I still can't believe you're... you're here. You should have run away as soon as you heard the gossip.'

'I take pride in thinking independently, thank you very much,′ Belle said, aiming for a lighter tone. 'And gossip rather attracts me, I'm a journalist. Not that I would use it, of course!' she added quickly.

Gold nodded.

'Thank you.'

Belle smiled.

'Is that dinner invitation still standing?'

'Aye,' Gold smiled weakly for the first time. 'If you want to.'

'I do.'

'Tomorrow at six, then?'

'I'll be here.'

With another tentative smile he bid her goodbye. Hopefully, they could get to know each other better at their own pace now.


End file.
